Nine Lives
by supernaturalbuffy
Summary: Black cats. The have such stigma connected with them. But could some of that be true? So far...the boys are gonna have to say yes. Hurt!Dean and later Hurt!Sam. Birthday challenge for 494dwangel!


NINE LIVES

A/N: Happy Birthday 494dwangel. I hope you like it. The next chapter should be up either this weekend or next week sometime.

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The street was peaceful this time of night in Stigler.

Houses glowed with the light of lit bedrooms or flickering TVs as families wound down for the night. A late night raccoon poked its head out of the sewer grate and sniffed the air hoping to find a possible meal as a light breeze rustled the browning leaves of fall. Twisting and turning the browning stems until finally one craggy leaf tore off floating on the wind destination unknown. Slowly, as the wind died a little, it made its way lazily down to the ground bobbing and weaving on the breeze before landing at the feet of the Jackson family.

The huddled four waited outside their ranch-style house in tense silence and looked towards the lighted windows with obvious concern. Muffled sounds of battle and chaos floated out to them and made them cringe in response.

_Thud!_

"Sonuva-"

"Dean!"

A mad cat's growl followed by a startled yelp made Peter tighten his hold on Jacob, his three-year-old son, who was hanging on to him in frightened shock. Jacob's legs and arms curled even tighter around his body and Peter took comfort in the weight of his boy against him as he continued to listen to what was happening inside his home.

"Damn it! Keep…reading, Sa-"

More noises came from the lit house and started to drift towards the neighbors' houses. Lights started to decorate windows as people heard the ruckus and started to peak through blinds or doors to see what had disturbed the solitude of their quiet neighborhood.

Pulling a piece of chestnut hair out of her eyes, Linda glanced warily at the surrounding houses unsure of what they might think was happening before she tightened her on the bundle of blankets in her arms and turned a little more towards her husband. Thankfully, Linny was still asleep and therefore unaware of what was going on behind closed doors.

Thumps, bumps, and crashes continued from inside the house until finally with an un-earthly screaming yowl, everything went quiet. With baited breath, the Jackson's clung tightly to each other and waited for a sign that it was over. A few long moments later, the two men who had come to their door asking weird questions about their cat came walking out. Well, one of them walking, the other was limping slightly.

Sucking in a startled breath, Linda couldn't help but stare. They looked like hell. Clothing rumpled and torn in places, scratches on their arms and face, and the shorter one was holding his arm like if he didn't it might come off completely.

"Are you okay?" Peter finally managed to ask and both men gave each other a look before finally nodding.

"It's okay now. We took care of the problem," the shorter of the two said and tried to give them a reassuring smile even as he tried to hide his pain but quickly dropped it when it wasn't returned.

"Um…we apologize," the shaggy haired one said slowly. "The house is kind of a mess. If you want, we can stay and clean up."

Shorty gave him an evil glare but then nodded his agreement if reluctantly.

"No, no that won't be necessary," Linda mumbled breathlessly as she juggled the baby a little closer and looked around at the surrounding houses and the curious looks they were getting from the neighbors. "You've done enough this evening. Um…thank you."

A few awkward moments of silence followed until Shorty finally, thankfully, broke it. "Okay, well…we should probably go. Um…take care?" After a few awkward moments, the two men finally looked at each other again, nodded their goodbyes, and turned to leave.

"Wait," Peter said before glancing nervously back at the house. "What about…"

The two young men gave each other an awkward side-glance before Shaggy finally cleared his throat and turned back to explain. "Oh, uh, your cat should be fine. Thankfully, there wasn't any harm done. She should be fine by tomorrow."

"It's still alive?!" Linda practically shouted and then mumbled quietly as Linny began to fuss at the sudden noise. Jacob gave a little whimper and tightened his grip on Peter's neck even more.

"Yeah," Shaggy started hesitantly. "Like I said, we took care of the problem. So…your cat's all right now. As I tried to explain before-"

"I don't care _what_ you said before," Peter said irritably. "That…_thing _tried to hurt my children. I want it _out of MY HOUSE_!"

The boys were quiet for a moment and then Shorty gave a slight nod towards the house. With a reluctant look back at the gathered group, Shaggy headed back inside the house. Linda and Peter both looked at each other and then at the remaining young man before looking away again. Shorty, for his part, just stood there looking awkward and in pain as the family continued to wait. After a few more moments, Shaggy came back carrying the cat in his arms and the family actually stepped back in fear as Shaggy came closer with the black kitten in his arms.

"Are you sure?" Shaggy asked with what could only be sadness in his voice.

"Just…get rid of it," Peter said with disgust and turned towards his family to head inside and try to fix what might be broken leaving the two young men and cat alone in the darkened street.

Watching the door close, Sam couldn't help but flinch when it finally closed with a slight slam. Scrubbing his thumb gently across the cat's soft fur, a sad little frown passed across his face. Looking down at the black bundle in his arms his heart gave a little pang of remorse.

Poor little guy. Being kicked out of its home. And for no good reason! Well…technically the cat _had _been possessed by a nasty little spirit at the time it attacked the young boy, but that was beside the point. It wasn't the cat's fault and…he did _not just_ sympathize with a _cat!. _Shaking his head slightly at the oddity of his thoughts, Sam finally turned with a sigh and looked over his big brother.

Dean stood with his good arm wrapped around the bad one and the little crinkles around his eyes showed that he was in pain. Blood streaked the side of his face where the few scratches he had gotten had bled for a while but Sam could tell that they were nothing serious. Now, if he could get Dean to let him even look at them. "Come on, let's get you home and checked out." Starting towards the car, he stopped in his tracks when Dean stepped in front of him.

"Whoa, wait. Where do you think you're going?"

"To the car?" Sam asked as if it was such a 'duh' thing and stepped to move around Dean.

"Not with that you're not," Dean said trying to point at the cat and yet not letting go of his bad arm.

Sam's jaw dropped and he huffed slightly. "Dean," he almost whined.

"No. We are _not _taking it with us. Just…leave it in the bushes or something. And no…this is _not_ up for discussion." Declaring the discussion closed with that statement, Dean finally turned and left Sam spluttering after him.

"But, De-, Why…Dean. Gah!, What? Dean no, I am _not_ leaving her out here. She could get hurt."

"So? Cats have nine lives, they're like those _Weeble Wobbles_. They fall down but they get right back up."

Sam narrowed his eyes and took out after his brother. "Dean, they are not some toy punching bag."

"Well, maybe they're like zombies or a _Timex_. 'They take a beating, and keep on ticking'. Don't worry. It'll spring right back." Dean stopped and scrunched his eyebrows together in thought before looking down at the cat. "What if they are like zombies? Then we'd have to go all _Pet Cemetery _on its ass_. _Yeah, I think I could handle that." With that he turned and headed towards the car once again

"Dean," Sam bit out and he felt his temper rise at Dean's callousness.

"No, Sam, I do _not want_ that pile of fur in my car. Do you even know how much those things shed? I'd never get rid of all that hair. It's worse than yours and believe me I've found some of yours in some of the weirdest places." Dean shivered dramatically and then winced when his shoulder informed him that that was bad idea.

"Dean," Sam said pleadingly as they finally reached the back of the car and he juggled the cat to a better position before looking down at the cat and back up at his brother utilizing his best weapon: his puppy-dog eyes.

Dean stared at Sam for a moment and then shifted his feet knowing exactly what Sam was trying to do. "Sam."

"Just…until we can find a shelter. But not here," he quickly added when he saw Dean start to speak. "She needs a good home, and after what happened in this town, I doubt if anybody would give her that chance."

Dean continued to stare seemingly unfazed by this bit of good-heartedness.

"Please? Give her a second chance?"

Dean was silent for another long moment and then finally blinked before turning towards the car muttering about manipulative little brothers and stupid cats.

Knowing he had won, Sam smiled brightly before rubbing a thumb across the cat's head again and headed for the driver's side. "I'm driving," he said even as he stepped between Dean and the driver's side door and listened to Dean splutter and spit. "Dean, you can't drive with a dislocated shoulder, and no…I will _not_ fix it so you can."

Dean did a good impression of a fish for a moment and then finally caved muttering something under his breath that Sam couldn't hear. "_Fine._ The keys are in my front pocket." Leaning slightly to the left and exposing his right hip pocket, he waited for Sam to get the keys but then pinned him with a withering look before he could reach for them. "Now, nothing _funny_, Otherwise, I'm gonna have to kick your ass."

Snorting softly at that comment, Sam juggled the bundle of black fur to his other hand before fishing for the keys in his brother's pocket. "Yeah, right, at this point I think a blonde waif could take you right now." Grinning happily, he pulled the jangling set free and held them up in triumph. "Thank you."

"Whatever," Dean grumbled back before heading for the passenger side Sam hot on his heels. "Hey, I wouldn't mind that kind of taking. In fact, if you could just drop me at the local bar, I'm sure I could find some pretty little thing that could help put me back together juusst fine."

Sam just rolled his eyes and then helped his brother get in before heading back towards the driver's side. Pausing for a moment to dab at one of maybe two scratches on his own face, he winced slightly at the sting before sliding in careful not to jostle the cat too much. Laying her down on the seat between them, he took a moment to make sure she was comfortable then looked up to meet Dean's eyes.

Cursing slightly, he then sighed heavily and tried to slouch down in the seat. "Can we just _go_ all ready? Some of us are bleeding here."

"It's not _my _fault you wouldn't let me help you hold off the 'possessed kitty'," Sam said making sure Dean heard the mocking humor in his voice.

"Hey, don't say it like that. That cat was strong, man. It nearly tore my throat out." Dean shifted again and grimaced slightly when then shifted his should too.

Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean and just stared. "Yeah. Sure. I'd like to see you explain that to Bobby," Sam deadpanned before turning back to the wheel and starting the engine.

"You wouldn't-"

The rest of Dean's response was drowned out by the blast of Metallica coming from the radio and Sam smiled up at his brother's glaring face before finally turning down the volume. "What? I couldn't hear you. The music was too loud."

Dean just glared at him and Sam couldn't help the little smile that crossed his face. Checking the cat once more—and they seriously needed to give her a name if they were going to keep her—Sam put the car in gear and started to pull out.

The gleaming black Impala pulled out into the almost full moonlight and headed out of town finally leaving the peace of the small town behind.

As things finally calmed down on the street and the neighbors went back to T.V. shows or bed, a shadow broke off from the others along the curbs to reveal a blue compact car. With a final look at the house, the window was rolled up and then the car sped down the street following the black Chevy out of town.

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A/N: Okay, so...I hope you liked it. Let me know yay or nay by sending me a review. As for those that are waiting on my other stories. Don't worry. I'm working on them. Until next week.


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